


what i need is for you to be sure

by tmylm



Series: OTP prompts; mixed ships [5]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Date Night, Established Bechloe, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Making Out, Marriage Proposal, Prompt Fill, Smut, Tumblr Prompt, bechloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:02:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27545026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: For theprompt: “It’s not mine, I swear.” - “How is it not fucking yours!”#29 | requested byrejection-isnt-failure.
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Series: OTP prompts; mixed ships [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007394
Comments: 45
Kudos: 177





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title from Hayley Kiyoko ft. Kehlani's _What I Need_.

They really do not do this often enough, Beca thinks as she sits comfortably at the small, secluded table in one of her and Chloe’s favorite restaurants, dainty fingers wrapped around her almost empty wine glass. It is kind of upscale really, the kind of place a younger Beca would’ve scoffed at the thought of thirty year old Beca even considering stepping foot in, let alone the very idea of it being one of her favorite places.

Beca always finds it funny, looking back on the events of the last ten years. So much has changed, to the point where Beca lives an almost unrecognizable life at this point. One thing has remained consistent, though; one person still has the natural ability to send a host of frantically flapping butterflies flying through her stomach, and as Beca’s comfortable gaze lifts to stare across the table at that one person, that one _perfect_ person, Beca finds herself thanking her lucky stars, the same way she has done so many times before.

Chloe, foot grazing feather lightly beneath the table against the smooth skin of Beca’s bare leg, is still Beca’s Chloe, the same way she has always been Beca’s Chloe. Together, they are still those same clueless college students, those same two people that are as hopelessly in love as they had been right from the start. They just...well, they have more money now, that’s all—and their home is lined with a few more Grammy awards, but that is neither here nor there.

“All good over there?”

Chloe’s voice is soft and serene, her subtle expression displaying something akin to mild amusement. Beneath the ambient lighting of the upscale restaurant, her loosely curled hair shines so beautifully, ocean blue eyes sparkling beneath slightly hooded lids. And Beca is so in love with everything that is Chloe Beale, so irrevocably, disgustingly in love, that she finds it difficult to even put it into words sometimes.

Eventually, Beca responds with a small shrug of her shoulder, head nodding gently in spite of her overwhelming feelings of desire. “Yeah, all good,” she smirks the most subtle of smirks. “Just checking you out. That okay?”

Chloe’s quiet chuckle in response is so melodic and familiar as she picks up her wine glass. Long fingers wind their way around the middle, hand rising to lift it slowly toward her lips. “Fine by me,” she winks, eventually tipping back the remainder of her drink. Her bright eyes, shimmering with her own silent wanting, remain fixated on Beca all the while.

* * *

It is really not surprising, considering they have spent the majority of their dinner together eye-fucking one another from across the table, the fact that they barely make it through the front door of their large New York apartment before exploring hands have begun to tug needily at unwanted items of clothing. Beca hastily shrugs off her own jacket, while Chloe’s fingers, trembling already with desire, grasp at the loose fabric of Beca’s short-length dress.

“Bedroom?” Beca murmurs somewhat breathlessly against Chloe’s already kiss-swollen lips. Chloe doesn’t respond, she simply backs her steadily toward the couch, and Beca cannot help her subtly smug expression in reaction. She hurriedly peels off Chloe’s jacket the second her back hits the cushions, and opts not to hold back the immediate whine of relief that falls in response to the trail of hungry kisses peppering their way toward her jaw.

“You knew what you were doing back there,” Beca mumbles through a hitched breath, manicured hands sliding into the back of loose, increasingly messy curls.

“Of course I did,” Chloe husks in response, her breathy chuckle causing a sudden puff of warm air against Beca’s wet, kiss-marked skin. It serves only as a way to turn her on further, to cause her already shaking body to tremble with further need for the familiar body draped over the top of her own.

Eventually, Chloe momentarily steals herself away, but only to slip off the black dress previously acting as an unwanted barrier between her desperate touch and Beca’s all too inviting body.

Chloe always knows how to touch Beca, she always knows exactly what to do to make her feel as indescribably good as only Chloe Beale knows how. So, there is nothing accidental about her movements; the way her knee, bare from the risen skirt of her dark blue dress, presses its way between Beca’s parted thighs is entirely deliberate.

Instinctively, Beca’s hips begin to rock, core sliding against the limb positioned between her thighs, and Beca knows already how wet she is, knows that Chloe will be able to feel the heat of her arousal beneath the light fabric of her lace panties.

(That is deliberate, too: Beca’s choice of underwear. They may have been together for years now, but Beca still knows how to make an effort, she still intentionally dresses up for date night, even if she knows the garments will soon be removed without thought.)

“You have no idea how badly I want you, Chlo,” Beca breathes unsteadily as one hand falls from its prior grip on Chloe’s hair and begins to move further down her back. Short nails scrape along the fabric of her dress, and Beca wants nothing more than to tear the barrier right away from her body.

“I do,” Chloe murmurs against hot skin as her hand pushes its way beneath the cup of Beca’s black lace bra. Her palm settles flat against her breast, fingertips beginning to cup at the fleshy tissue—the movement causes Beca’s body to rock harder, to press more firmly into her knee in desperate need of deeper friction. “I can feel you.”

“I want more,” Beca half begs, her breathless words interrupted by a soft whimper of desire. She can feel the way the corners of Chloe’s mouth tug upward as soft lips push wet, open-mouthed kisses against the valley between her bra-covered breasts.

“I know you do, baby,” Chloe hums between kisses, movements beginning to slow until she can eventually pull back. It is only at that point that Beca’s lids finally flutter open to take in Chloe’s somewhat disheveled form. Now misplaced lipstick is smeared around her mouth, remnants likely dotted along Beca’s prickling skin, and Beca cannot help but think that Chloe has never looked more beautiful, never wanted her more. “Come on,” Chloe whispers, pushing a lingering kiss to Beca’s lips, before eventually rising from the couch with an outstretched hand. “You can choose the toy.”

A part of Beca almost wants to protest, to tell Chloe that it doesn’t matter, and to just fuck her right here on their three-seater couch. But, admittedly, Beca really does love their vast toy collection, and even more so the way Chloe knows the most perfect way to use them all in an effort to make Beca scream.

Pale fingers wind through Chloe’s, and Beca finds that her legs are somewhat unsteady as she allows her to help her up from the couch. She can see the smug expression on Chloe’s face in response, and despite the fact that Beca fondly rolls her eyes, she chooses not to comment; Chloe has earned it, after all.

Keeping their hands to themselves proves impossible despite the short walk from the living room and toward their bedroom. They crash through the door with their fingers intertwined and Beca’s free hand grasping at the fabric of Chloe’s dress, lips fighting messily against one another’s in an urgent attempt not to ever fully part.

Their intertwined hands only release their hold as Beca finally forces herself away to head eagerly for their drawer of toys, the persistent ache between her legs only building as she hears the rustling of Chloe quickly removing her dress behind her. Darkened eyes scan over their collection, with Beca soon selecting a simple strap—simple, yet incredibly effective, especially when worn by Chloe Beale.

By now, all of their toys have gotten plenty of use, so it is only natural that the sight of something new catching Beca’s hungry stare causes her to pause.

“What’s this?” she questions curiously, reaching in to grab the small box from its hiding place.

It is clear that Chloe is still busy removing her clothing, if the distracted sounding, _“Hm?”_ is anything to go by.

Even in her incredibly turned on, one track mind state, Beca is not entirely clueless. She can see what she is now holding, and her brows tug tightly together as she eyes it perhaps a little too suspiciously. Instinctively, she drops the strap back into the drawer, concentration now on the ring box in her hand.

“Chloe, what is this?” Beca questions again, this time a little more sternly. It is further instinct for her to slowly, nervously pull open the lid, scared eyes widening in response to the shiny ring nestled comfortably inside. Her heart had begun to beat at a much faster rate before, but it practically stops now.

“What?” Chloe questions, own eyes widening some as Beca turns slowly toward her, gaze evidently landing on the open ring box now, too. Her tone, dripping with lust beforehand, changes instantly, and is now laced with something akin to fear. “Beca, no… It’s not mine, I swear.”

Beca shifts uncomfortably on the spot, gaze glued to the ring, the one she knows certainly does not belong to her, in her hand. “What? How is it not fucking yours? It was in the drawer, Chloe!”

There is a certain sense of panic between them by now, Beca’s slackened jaw shaking as Chloe quickly approaches.

“No, no, let me explain,” Chloe tries hurriedly, head shaking fast. “It’s really not mine, Bec. I know how you feel about marriage, I know we’ve talked about this a million times before. You’re not ready, and I completely respect that. I promise you, this is not my ring.” She pauses to reach out toward the box, taking it gently from Beca’s loose grasp. “I’m holding it for somebody. I’m holding it for Aubrey, she didn’t want Stacie to find it.”

In spite of herself, in spite of the panic swirling throughout her body, Beca brings her worried gaze toward Chloe’s face, and the clear sincerity is displayed as plain as day. Beca chooses not to protest, and only swallows as her arms wrap protectively around her bare middle. “Are… Do you promise?”

In response, Chloe’s tensed shoulders instantly slump, head nodding as she closes the lid of the box. “I promise, Beca,” she assures in the most gentle yet reassuring tone. She leans around in her half undressed state to set the box safely down on top of the drawers, hands reaching out to loop her fingers through Beca’s. Beca doesn’t fight her, she simply stares up at her with now only mild confusion etched across her face.

“I promise,” Chloe says again, intent gaze locking itself with Beca’s. “I promise that this is not mine. You know that I want to marry you someday, Bec, but you know that I am super understanding of your feelings, too.”

Although shaking slightly, Beca manages to keep her gaze on Chloe’s, manages to allow the familiarity to pull her back to herself. Slowly, she eventually nods her head. “Okay,” she finally says. “You know I want to marry you someday too, Chlo, but you know that I’m just...I’m not ready right now, right?”

Quickly, Chloe nods her head in response, small yet kind smile easing onto her lips. “I know,” she promises, arching forward to drop a delicate kiss to the center of Beca’s forehead. Beca’s lids flutter shut in response, deep breath of relief sucking in through her nostrils.

It is clear that the moment they had been captured in has passed by now, so Beca appreciates the way Chloe gently begins to guide her toward the bed, fingers still looped protectively through one another’s, until Chloe can lower down onto the edge of the mattress. Beca instinctively follows suit, one hand releasing Chloe’s, before perching cautiously down beside her.

Chloe’s soft chuckle as she takes in Beca’s expression is not obnoxious, it is simply comforting, much like the way her free hand rises to brush a chunk of fallen hair soothingly behind Beca’s ear. “Are you okay?” she quietly asks, concern for Beca’s wellbeing entirely apparent. “This has… You’re not still freaked out, right?”

“No,” Beca responds in a small voice, “No, I’m okay. I just…” she trails off with a small shrug of her shoulder and a somewhat apologetic look Chloe’s way.

Slowly, Chloe leans forward to press a chaste kiss to Beca’s lips, one she easily returns. “Okay,” she whispers, head nodding shortly as she finally pulls back. Scooting back slightly, Chloe lays down on the mattress, carefully tugging Beca down beside her. “I should’ve told you it was in there,” she says as she rolls onto her side, concerned eyes studying Beca’s expression. “I’m sorry. Honestly, I completely forgot about it.”

“It’s okay,” Beca promises, glancing up at Chloe with a soft, genuine smile.

And she feels bad really, even more so as Chloe tucks the same chunk of hair behind her ear again in an effort to offer some much needed comfort. Because yes, they have had this conversation, they have had it many times lately, in fact, the one about how Beca is just not ready to take that next step, not yet.

The silver lining here, Beca thinks as she stares at the most familiar, most beautiful person beside her, is in the way this will hopefully throw Chloe even further off track. Regardless of the circumstances, Beca can take comfort in the fact that she was the one to find Aubrey’s engagement ring, and that things hadn’t happened the other way around.

Chloe hadn’t found the ring, the one Beca has stored safely away in her own secret hiding place… The one she plans to lower to one knee and present her with during their upcoming trip next weekend.

At least that is still safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week after Beca’s unfortunate discovery, they finally take their trip away together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised y’all strap smut, soooo.

Georgia is probably not the first thought to enter a person’s mind when they imagine a celebrity’s dream vacation destination. An extravagant, expensive, tropical resort likely fits the bill much more aptly, but that is really not Beca Mitchell, it never has been Beca Mitchell.

(Honestly, despite her countless awards and the fact that she is a household name by this point, Beca still scoffs at the term _celebrity_ when used as a descriptor for her in general.)

So, a quiet, peaceful getaway in a picturesque Tallulah Falls cabin is much more her speed. It is Chloe’s, too. Chloe loves an adventure, she loves to be outdoors and to drag Beca along scenic hiking trails that Beca generally whines about the very idea of, but that she proceeds to go along with eventually anyway—and privately gets a kick out of Chloe’s unbridled excitement along the way.

There is another reason for this specific location this time, though. While not exactly Tallulah Falls, Georgia is where this union started out; Georgia is where Beca first laid eyes on the peppy redhead in the pretty blue dress with the captivating eyes, and where the rollercoaster that has been their crazy, beautiful life together first began.

More than ten years have passed now, more than ten years since that fateful first meeting at that stupid activities fair, the one Beca only even attended in a desperate attempt to ditch her overbearing father, but Beca still looks at Chloe Beale the same way she did that very first time, when Chloe managed, in one fell swoop, to entirely steal her breath away. From that very first moment, Beca truly was a goner.

It was in Georgia that they had their first ever date, shared their first emotional _I love you_ , and if everything goes to plan, it will be in Georgia that Chloe will say _yes_ to wearing the shiny engagement ring hidden safely away in Beca’s private luggage… As long as Beca manages to swallow back her nerves for long enough to pop the question, anyway.

To give Chloe her credit, so far, she is doing a damn good job at keeping Beca’s mind preoccupied from her anxious thoughts.

“See, that wasn’t so terrible, right?” Chloe grins as she holds open the door to their rented cabin with a flattened palm, motioning Beca through first.

How Chloe, mid-length hair scraped back neatly into a sleek bun, still manages to look so well put together, Beca truly does not know, especially taking her own entirely disheveled appearance into consideration.

“I’m pretty sure we just walked around the entire state of Georgia,” Beca grumbles, pushing her long hair back from her sticky forehead. Immediately, she heads for the nearest log chair—the interior really is every bit the cozy log cabin decor one would expect—and makes no attempt to hold back her loud groan of disgruntlement as she leans down to tug off her uncomfortable boots. “How do you, like, not even break a sweat?”

Chloe’s fond eye roll precedes a quiet giggle as she closes out the chilling November air. “I told you not to wear so many layers,” she shrugs, breezing casually toward the chair, before carefully lowering to her knees to help Beca the rest of the way out of her boots. “Everything looked so pretty, though, right?” she hums brightly in thought, and despite her general disdain for so much unnecessary exercise, Beca cannot help but be entirely captivated by Chloe’s explicit joy.

“I guess,” Beca frowns, leaning lazily into the cushioned backrest. She bites back the urge to tell Chloe she looked prettier than any of those brightly colored fall leaves; Beca may be disgustingly in love, but she is not a _total_ cheeseball.

(Besides, that observation could totally come in useful for her proposal tomorrow… Or whenever she decides to do it.)

In spite of her disgruntled mood, Chloe’s quiet chuckle is like music to Beca’s ears. She finds herself relaxing beneath the gentle peck Chloe pushes to her knee through the thick material of her fleece-lined winter leggings. “Okay, grumpy,” Chloe teases, pushing another small kiss to the bottom of Beca’s thigh. She doesn’t stop there; instead, she begins to push a trail of kisses the whole way up Beca’s leg, fingertips slipping toward the waistband of her leggings.

“What are you doing?” Beca quirks a brow, subtle amusement tugging at her lips as she watches Chloe’s deliberate movements. She knows the answer, of course, especially when long fingers begin to curl over the top of the fabric, with Beca immediately shivering with anticipation.

“Seeing if I can’t break a sweat,” Chloe murmurs, parted lips pushing to the bare skin of Beca’s now exposed midriff. The very action causes goosebumps to rise in their path.

They have always been like this, always able to switch from something entirely innocent—like a brisk hike through the falls, for example—to something...well, much _less_.

Halfheartedly, Beca squirms, breathy chuckle falling from her lips. “Chlo, I’m so sticky and gross right now,” she protests (again halfheartedly), though makes no attempt to actually stop her. Even if she did, her voice is thick with the kind of lust that completely betrays her words.

“Don’t worry,” Chloe mumbles quietly, hands sliding beneath the rising fabric of Beca’s sweater. They continue their path upward, pushing the barrier along with them, and Beca’s skin begins to prickle almost desperately beneath the wet kisses pressed to her body. “I like it.”

Although her eyes roll sarcastically, Beca definitely does not fight. She doesn’t fight as Chloe stretches upward to seek out Beca’s lips with her own, nor does she fight the way long arms eventually wind around her middle, until Chloe is effortlessly scooping her up from the chair.

The way Chloe picks her up, those toned, muscular arms holding onto her so protectively yet in a way that Chloe makes look so damn _easy_ , is always a major turn on for Beca. She finds herself clinging back in return, arms wrapped somewhat possessively around Chloe’s neck as her legs hook around her waist, and Beca finds herself whimpering softly as she ducks her head to push a needy, lingering kiss to Chloe’s lips.

They do not know this cabin, they only arrived today, but Chloe manages to manoeuvre her way around blindly regardless. Her arms hold tightly onto Beca’s small frame until they are eventually ascending the staircase and pushing their way through the door to the bedroom, where most of their luggage still remains untouched, and Chloe can finally lay Beca down onto the neatly made bed.

There is something incredibly needy about the way Beca’s hands begin to cascade immediately down Chloe’s back, fingers tugging at the loose fabric of her sweater. She can feel the way Chloe reaches down to quickly shed her own tight-fitting leggings, and while Chloe’s lips trailing toward her jaw are preventing Beca from looking down to properly see, the very mental image causes a sharp ache of need to spread between her tightly clenching thighs.

“You still want the strap, baby?” Chloe murmurs in a husky tone, words vibrating against the tightened skin of Beca’s neck.

Already, Beca’s mind feels slightly fuzzy, brain fogged by the sheer feeling of desire coursing through her. She almost wonders if she heard Chloe right. “We have it?”

“Mhm,” Chloe nods, teeth grazing down gently against hot skin, before she finally begins to pull back. “I didn’t forget.”

 _Of course_ Chloe didn’t forget. Beca hasn’t, either. Their needy makeout session last week that almost led to Chloe fucking Beca with their favorite strap, but ultimately ended in an unfortunate discovery, has lingered in Beca’s mind ever since. And, _fuck_ , she really has been wanting that strap, so as she glances up at Chloe to see the wink she sends her way before climbing off of her, Beca struggles to hold back her desperate whine.

Beca’s prior grumpiness in response to their earlier hike is all but forgotten as she scrambles to tug off her sweater, then moves quickly onto ridding her leggings. She hears Chloe’s breathy chuckle in response, and glances up through slightly hooded lids to see her approaching the bed with the strap in one hand, small bottle of vanilla flavored lube in the other.

“Taking your clothes off without me?” Chloe hums, shimmering eyes darkened beneath beautifully fanned lashes. The way she crawls onto the bed, hungry gaze never leaving Beca’s newly exposed body, causes Beca’s thighs to clench more tightly, causes a further rush of heat to spread between her legs. Lazily, Chloe drops the items onto the mattress, palms instead settling on Beca’s lower legs. She whispers in a naturally husky tone as she leans down to push a kiss to smooth skin, “You know I like to do that part.”

“Fuck,” is all Beca can quietly murmur as she watches Chloe moving further up her body, leaving a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses in her path.

“What was that?” Chloe hums as she pushes her parted lips to Beca’s inner thigh, teeth gently grazing down.

“Fuck me,” Beca corrects desperately, hungry eyes staring upward as Chloe rises to begin peeling off her own clothes.

Again, Chloe only winks in response, and it is clear she is making something of a show of the way she slips her fingers beneath the waistband of her panties, beginning to lower them down her thighs with the kind of smirk that Beca desperately wants to kiss away. Fortunately, she is a little too preoccupied by the sight before her, by the glistening of Chloe’s arousal already streaking the tops of her thighs.

“How do you get hotter every day?” Beca swallows, desperate to reach out and _touch_ , but she is also not trying to slow Chloe’s movements, especially not as she sheds her underwear completely, then reaches out to retrieve the toy.

It is an incredibly strange feeling, being so turned on by the mere sight of someone putting on a strap-on—honestly, the first time, Beca kind of awkwardly laughed; it was a very fumbly experience for them both—but God, Beca’s need for Chloe only grows as she watches her tug it into place now.

Instinctively, she reaches down to begin pushing down her panties while Chloe works on adding the lube, though Chloe cuts her off with a quick shake of her head. “No, let me do that,” she says, body arching forward to push Beca’s hands out of the way. In passing, Beca can feel the length of the toy pressing against her leg, smell that familiar vanilla scent in the air, and her unbridled desire only intensifies further in response.

She doesn’t realize just how desperately she _needs_ to kiss Chloe, not until her lips, parted and kiss-swollen already, push to her own, with Beca eagerly returning the motion. Beca’s arms naturally rise to loop around Chloe’s neck, their hold immediately tightening to pull her body closer. The way her legs spread against the mattress, with Chloe’s body slotting between, tells Chloe just how ready she is for her, how badly she wants her.

Evidently, they don’t even need further foreplay; Beca is already worked up enough to the point where her breath catches in her throat as Chloe’s hand slides down the small gap between their bodies to wrap her fingers around the silicone strap. She pulls back from the kiss only to focus on pressing the tip of the toy to Beca’s already dripping cunt, warm forehead pressing gently against Beca’s as her hips push forward to slide the length slowly inside of her. Immediately, Beca lets out a soft whimper, own hips rocking upward in reaction.

“That okay?” Chloe murmurs quietly, to which Beca does not verbally respond. Instead, she gently nods her head, before tipping her face forward to recapture Chloe’s lips with her own.

They do this often, too; go from heated and desperate, like the way Chloe had looked at her only moments ago as if intent on making Beca scream, to the slow, sensual way their hips begin to rock in a gentle rhythm, lips pushing softly, lovingly against one another’s.

Of course, it is still sex, it doesn’t matter how careful their movements may start out, the quiet moan to rise from the back of Beca’s throat as Chloe pushes the toy deeper into her aching cunt is a natural one.

“God,” Chloe breathes unsteadily in response, the tightening grip of Beca’s arms causing her breath to catch in her throat. Instinctively, the speed of Chloe’s hip movements begins to pick up, with Beca’s easily doing the same in return.

The faster their movements, the further apart Beca’s thighs spread until they are flattened against the mattress, shaky fingers gripping onto the back of Chloe’s hair. It is no longer confined to its neat bun, and instead becoming unruly with the way Beca’s fingers slide through falling curls, but Chloe doesn’t seem to mind. As Beca trembles through her building orgasm, walls tensing and volume increasing, Chloe doesn’t seem to mind.

Ten years ago, Beca never would’ve imagined this, she never would’ve seen herself tangled up with her best friend, making love to one another in the most sickeningly sweet, amazing way. She never would’ve seen herself losing control of her body as she came to the whispered sound of Chloe repeating a husky, “I love you,” over and over again, much less Beca echoing back the sentiment through a series of pleasured moans herself.

Even now, as Beca lays beside Chloe post-orgasm, taking in the most beautiful, most familiar sight of flushed cheeks and freckle-dotted skin, she feels the need to pinch herself to remind herself that this is real, that this is her reality... _their_ reality.

Steadily, Beca’s hand reaches out to push a chunk of red hair behind Chloe’s ear, adoring gaze studying her face, and Beca is only further reminded that this is it, this is everything she could ever want and more.

Mentally, she instructs herself to tell Chloe that tomorrow, when she is bent down on one knee asking her to officially spend the rest of their lives together… It has to be tomorrow, Beca really cannot wait any longer. She needs Chloe, with that lazy smile that still sends butterflies through Beca’s entire body, to know that this...this is it.

 _God_ , Beca thinks, _what a fucking sap_...

But, in reality, she doesn’t mind.

She will be anything for Chloe Beale, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, as usual, [this is me](http://chloebeale.tumblr.com)!


End file.
